


Wherever I go there's a shadow of you

by warlocktrash (exorcisms_are_hot)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, cause this fandom both needs and deserves loads of that eh?, dont ask me when this is set I have no answer, it's just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:20:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7830244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exorcisms_are_hot/pseuds/warlocktrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You should totally jump naked out of a cake with the ring on your, well, yeah,” Tony smirked. <br/>“How small do you think Steve’s penis is?” scoffed Natasha. <br/>“Barnes has big hands okay?” was Tony’s only defense and this was not helping at all. <br/>“Guys! My penis will not be involved with the proposal itself in any way so I really don’t see why we’re talking about this.” </p><p>or</p><p>Steve has feelings and possibilities</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wherever I go there's a shadow of you

**Author's Note:**

> What is this? Who knows? Not me.   
> First Stucky fanfic so let's see what happens. 
> 
> Title taken from Wherever I go by OneRepublic

It wasn’t _necessary_. They didn’t _have_ to. But it was a possibility, and Steve wasn’t used to having those.

So yeah, when he walked past the jewelry-store, he couldn’t help that his eyes were drawn to the simple, wedding bans glinting in the sparse sunlight. Bucky had been back for years by now - 4 years, actually - and they’d been together for three. They’d gotten their own place, not too far away from the Tower, but far enough to get the feeling of privacy. Steve had suggested that they moved back to Brooklyn, but Bucky had shot that idea down immediately. “We have memories from one life, there. I want to make new memories, of a new life, in a new place.” And since Steve would do just about anything to make Bucky happy, he’d been more than okay with that. They both still had therapy every other week, and a monthly appointment with Sam at the VA. Sam claimed it was to inspire the other vets, but Steve knew it was just as much for his own and Bucky’s sake as it was for the vets.  

Point is, they’re good. They were really, _really_ good. Steve had dreamt of being with Bucky since he’d first learned what love and lust meant. Dreamt of kissing him, holding him, protecting him. And he had that, mornings filled with smiles and laughter, and he wanted everyone to know how happy he was. Back in the 1940’s, they could’ve never been together, let alone even think about getting married.

But now they could. And _god_ did Steve want to.

The only hurdle being that he had no idea how Bucky would react. Bucky had always been unpredictable at best, even before the…. mess. He still was, still continued to surprise Steve every day and kept him on his toes. 

He might say yes, he might laugh and smack Steve upside the head. Steve was willing to try.

That’s why he found himself back outside the jeweler with Sam and Clint by his side. The original ring-purchasing plan hadn’t included either of them, but in that moment Steve appreciated their silent support, even if Clint sniggered at Steve’s panicked face.

“’I’m Captain America, I can throw myself in front of bullets and my only weapon is a star-spangled dinner plate, and I’m scared of shiny things,’” Clint mocked under his breath as they stepped into the store. Steve was too busy scowling at him to take note of the woman heading their way.

“Hello there!” she greeted sunnily, and Steve jumped about a foot in the air. He ignored Sam’s snort as he offered his hand to the woman.

“Uh, hi. St-Steve Rogers. I-I’m here to buy an engagement ring?” he squeaked, flinching when it came out as a question.

The woman either didn’t notice or didn’t care as she told him her name was Sandy. “I think I can help you with that,” she teased lightly, and Steve felt some of the tension melt out of his shoulders. Several people were staring at him, Clint and Sam, but Sandy seemed intent on ignoring the elephant in the room.

Sandy started walking, then, and with a shared look, the men scuffled after her. Steve realized they looked nothing like the superheroes they were meant to be, but Steve was about to buzz out of his skin, so he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Sandy lead them to a display cabinet at the front of the store. She took her place behind it and spread her arms out wide to gesture at the rings on display at the top of the cabinet. “Now, I naturally have a lot more - and I mean a _lot_ \- more rings, so why don’t you start off by telling me about your hope-to-be-fiancé?”

Sam patted him reassuringly on the shoulder, as if he could feel Steve shutting down. It wasn’t that the general population _didn’t know_ about him and Bucky, but they’d never said it explicitly. Everyone just assumed. And even though Steve had lived in the 21st century for a good while by then, it still took him a few moments to muster up the courage to open his mouth.

“His name is Bucky. We’ve been best friends since I was 5. We grew up together in Brooklyn, y’know, back in the 1930’s. Uh, I’ve been in love with him for as long as I can remember, probably, but we couldn’t exactly be together back then, so the 21st century has been a pleasant surprise in that area.” Sandy smiled in understanding, her eyes soft, and gestured for him to continue. “We’ve never really discussed marriage, but I feel like he deserves a day where I just… remind him how important he is.”

“He sounds like a lucky man,” Sandy told him, and almost as an afterthought, added: “and so do you.”

And Steve couldn’t help the smile that took over his face at that, and cast his eyes downwards so Sandy wouldn’t notice the onslaught of emotions that washed over him, Bucky’s face flashing in his mind. He deserved it. _They_ deserved it.

“So Cap, what kind of ring would Barnes appreciate?” Clint asked, and effectively broke the spell. Steve sent him a grateful smile and rolled his eyes at Clint’s wink.

“Something simple. Just imagine his face if I show up with a huge potato of a diamond,” the three of them shuddered at the thought, and Sandy laughed.

“He’ll shove it up your ass,” Sam piped up and then they were all cracking up at the mere image of Bucky shoving a diamond up Steve’s ass.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve wheezed to Sandy once he could breathe again. The happiness blooming in his chest had luckily become a regular thing, but he still felt a bit lightheaded.

Sandy was smiling though, and she waved him off. “Please don’t, you’re a breath of fresh air.”

As they all got their shit together again, Sandy started pulling out drawers and picking out some rings on the glass top for Steve to inspect. “So, gold or silver?”

“Silver,” Steve said immediately. Sandy picked the gold ones away, and Steve was left staring at five rings.

“Choose the one you like the best and we’ll work from that.”

Steve mulled it over for a long moment, before pinching a silver band with tiny stones shaped as an infinity sign between his fingers and holding it up. “I like the lil’ stones but he will _not_ appreciate the sappiness of the infinity sign.”

Sandy chuckled and dived back behind the cabinet, and pulled out another five rings.

They did this several times, and Sam and Clint wandered off before long. Suddenly, Clint gasped and Steve went into full offence mode immediately. He crouched down slightly and raised his fists, eyes sweeping over the store for signs of danger. What he actually saw was Clint staring at a display, hands on his face cupping his ‘O’ shaped mouth.

“Steve!” he hissed, “you gotta get this one!”

Steve relaxed his tense muscles and humored Clint by walking closer.

But then he took a look at the ring in question and he, well, he kinda lost his breath.

It was a silver band, a beaded ribbon design weaving it’s way around spaced out rectangles in the middle. It was simple, beautiful, and it left a warm sense of familiarity in Steve’s stomach that he couldn’t quite explain.

Sandy walked closer and whipped out a key to open the display and take out the ring. “Of course, I should have shown you this immediately. It’s a 1940’s inspired ring. The designer’s grandfather had a similar ring, albeit a tad more subdued, and so he choose to change it up a bit and this is the result.”

Like a wave crashing into him full-force, he realized why he’d been drawn to this one. His mother had a ring very similar to this hanging in a chain in her jewelry box. It had belonged to his father, and Steve faintly recalled the ring glinting on his father’s finger. Whenever Steve had been particularly sick as a kid, the times where the doctors were _sure_ he wouldn’t make it this time, Steve’s mother would pull out the ring and pray to his father and to God that Steve would conquer this wave of illness as well. The ring had been passed down from Steve’s grandfather to his father, and Steve wished he could somehow get his hands on it, but there was just no way.

Steve shook his head to shake away the remorse and nostalgia that still seemed to cling to him, even after so many years. He might not have been able to offer Bucky his father’s original ring, but he had an idea.

“Uhm, is there any way to make some changes to it? I can draw up a sketch within a few days, and come back. Will you hold it for me that long?” Steve fidgeted, as Sandy seemed to consider him. He noticed the mirth swimming in her eyes; knew she was only playing with him, but he was nervous, okay?

“Very well, Mr. Rogers. I might be persuaded.” She smiled and promised to hold it for him. She handed him a slip of paper with some information on it. “Just in case I’m not here the next time you come in. This way, you can get the ring and show the clerk what you want done with it.”

Steve thanked her profusely, before they took their leave.  

Luckily, Bucky wasn’t at the apartment when Steve got home. His thoughts swirled, and he felt as if they were about to bleed out of his ear. He barely remembered saying goodbye to Sam and Clint, but he did remember staggering to one of his sketchbooks and attacking the paper with a pencil immediately.

The changes he wanted to make were small. They might even seem insignificant, but to him, it was about honoring a memory by making new ones. He changed the design of the ribbon slightly, adding swoops and swirls that he somehow pulled out of his memory with little effort. The new design reminded him more of lace than the original beading, and he drew and added shadows and started over a dozen times. When the front door snapped shut, his head flew up. He scrambled to hide the paper from the jewelry store and the sketch and shoved it in between his million other sketchbooks.

Art was a hobby he’d been more than happy to rediscover. Before the war and the serum, that had been what his life had been shaping up to center around. It had become a means of recovery, and of self-discovery, in the 21st century. It was his escape, when the bad days got too bad.

But for the first time it felt _useful_. Sure, it helped him remember, but so did a journal entry, a book, or an exhibition at the Smithsonian. The ring design for Bucky could only be drawn by his own hand; not written or described by anyone else. _God_ , the ring design for _Bucky_.

Bucky, who was standing in the doorway to their ‘secret lair’ as he liked to call it. It wasn’t much, just a desk for Steve to draw at with shelves lining the wall for his supplies. On the other side of the room were numerous of Steve’s sketches, pinned to the wall by Bucky. Most of them were of Bucky or the both of them together, but they were also of their old apartment, and their new one, the view from both places. Their families, their friends, and everything else that mattered.  

The sketches loomed over some workout equipment. A treadmill, a few weights and some elastic bands. They rarely used the equipment, though. They preferred to head to the Tower to train with the others, or go to the gym down the street so they could work out side-by-side, laughing and talking and freaking out all the civilians.

Bucky cleared his throat to gain Steve’s attention. Steve grinned and sprung up from his chair, bounded over to Bucky to kiss him hello. Bucky quirked an eyebrow at him, but there was a smirk teasing at the edges of his lips.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” he muttered as he wound his arms around Steve’s waist and dragged him close, peppering kisses all over Steve’s face to make him squirm.

Steve batted him away with a chuckle. “Well sorry if I’ve missed my boyfriend.”

Bucky groaned, tucking his face into Steve’s neck. “You know I hate that word.”

Steve did know that. “My soulmate,” he crowed, raising his voice to block out Bucky’s groan, “my best friend, my silly rabbit,” and then Bucky was laughing, face tucked into Steve’s neck. He bit down on Steve’s shoulder as the latter prattled on, each nickname more ridiculous than the last.

“My favorite French-“ Bucky cut him off abruptly with a kiss, breathing a sigh of relief against Steve’s lips when that seemed to shut him up. “You’re so passive aggressive,” Steve tutted when Bucky pulled back.

“No. I’m aggressive aggressive. You’re a nuisance.” Bucky flicked his ear before backing out of the room.

“You’re still cooking dinner, right?!”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

 

Whenever Bucky left the apartment for more than five consecutive minutes, Steve would whip out his newly purchased sketchbook (labelled; drawings of Sam. A safety measure, should Bucky ever stumble upon it. That way, he’d never look) and drew.

It took him six days to perfect the design. He hoped the jeweler could see how much time and dedication he’d put into this; how important it was.

He decided to walk to the jewelry store to walk off some of the nerves and excitement swirling around in his stomach and making him slightly queasy. He put in his earbuds and turned on the playlist Sam had made for him years ago, right when he’d come out of the ice. It was titled: “Get with the program,” and to this day, it was still Steve’s favorite.

Danny O'Donoghue was crooning on about exit wounds in his ears when he reached the store and turned off his phone. He clutched his sketchbook in his arms, the spine creaking under his tight grip. With a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

To his immediate relief, Sandy greeted him.

“Mr. Rogers!” she crowed happily, an easy smile blooming on her face. He grinned back, his fingers slowly uncurling from the sketchbook.

“Hey Sandy. I finally managed to finish that sketch.” He flipped to the right page and practically shoved it into Sandy’s hands. For some reason, he craved her approval, despite her knowing virtually nothing about Bucky and what he meant to Steve.

Yet, when she flipped back a few pages only to see dozens of almost identical sketches that he’d scrapped because they weren’t perfect, she seemed to understand more than anyone else.

“It’s stunning,” she muttered once she’d returned to the right page.

“You think?”

“Definitely, Mr. Rogers. If you ever tire of the superhero stuff, you should become a designer.”

Steve chuckled with a shake of his head. “I wouldn’t be able to sit still long enough for that. This is a one off.”

Sandy considered him with a thoughtful hum. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.”

Steve left the shop that day emptyhanded, but with the promise of a finished ring within two weeks. It felt like such a long _time_. He wasn’t known for being patient, especially not when it came to Bucky. But he needed this to be perfect, even if it ended up taking months.

He needed Bucky to understand how grateful Steve was that he was still in his life, through all the darkness they’d both waded through.

 

­­­­­­­­­--------------------------------------------------------------

 

The whole plan was shot to hell later that week at Sam’s house.

“So how are you going to pop the question to our favorite ex-assassin?”

Steve was just about to chastise Sam for calling Bucky an assassin, when his brain processed the question, and then promptly blanked. His mouth dropped open, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. He suddenly felt the urge to bash his head onto the table they were sitting at, so he did.

Sam - bless his patient, pure heart - let Steve make a noticeable dent in his table. He threw a: “you’re making Stark buy me a new one,” over his shoulder as he set out to brew a cup of coffee for Steve.

“I’ve never even thought this far,” Steve told himself, horrified.

“That ain’t good, Stevie. If you do this wrong, Barnes’ll say no faster than Stark did when Barton asked if he could ‘just lightly caress the large, red button.’”

“Please don’t compare me to Clint while I’m having a crisis,” Steve hissed, pouring the coffee down his throat and then squeaking when it burned the whole way down.

Sam sighed as he poured a glass of milk and handed it to Steve, who gratefully chucked the whole thing down. “No one messes with you like Barnes. It’s actually kinda funny.” At Steve’s withering scowl, he simply rolled his eyes. “Does the serum come with a dash of drama or is that all authentic Rogers?”

“I will end you.”

“You sounded a bit like Barnes there.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

 

So Steve had the perfect ring, he had the perfect -- Bucky? But he had no idea how to actually carry out the proposal itself, which, was kinda the crucial point of the entire ordeal. How he had simply forgotten that he would have to actually _ask_ Bucky was beyond him, but he did. So. There was that.

“This is the best day of my life,” Tony whispered under his breath.

Natasha cuffed him upside the head, but she was fighting back a smile on her own and Steve had never felt so _betrayed_.

“Y’know Stark and I aren’t exactly love experts, right? I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be asking us.”

“Yeah, you must be real desperate, lover boy.”

“I am,” Steve admitted without a hint of shame. “I spent three hours on google this morning and I’m still _lost_.”

“You should totally jump naked out of a cake with the ring on your, well, yeah,” Tony smirked.

“How small do you think Steve’s penis _is?_ ” scoffed Natasha.

“Barnes has big hands okay?” was Tony’s only defense and this was not helping at all.

“ _Guys!_ My penis will not be involved with the proposal itself in any way so I really don’t see why we’re talking about this.”

“Your penis is an important matter to discuss,” Tony shrugged.

“Wait, did it get bigger when you got the serum?”

And then Steve left.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

 

In the end, he didn’t have to worry.

He and Bucky sometimes went for walks. New York was a beautiful city if you were willing to look for the small streets with the tiny shops that they could barely fit in with their long legs and broad shoulders.

Today, they’d found the smallest bakery in probably all of New York. Afternoon was slowly bleeding into night, so the elderly man running the shop was slowly cleaning and closing up, but he beckoned them inside with a large smile.

“Hello there gentlemen. You’ve stopped by at just the right time. I’m throwing out the leftovers from today, and I always feel bad. Could you eat some of it for me?”

And so they were seated at a four-person table and the man, Gerard, brought out box after box of cakes, biscuits, cookies and cupcakes, and they ate as much as their stomachs could bear. Even fast metabolism gives up at some point. Gerard was a lively spirit, even if he was turning 76 next month, and they talked to him well into the evening, until he excused himself to clean the kitchen and left them alone.  

Bucky moved some of the boxes away, so he could intertwine his metal hand with Steve’s, a small smile gracing his face as he gazed down at their hands.

“Who would’ve thought we’d end up here, huh?” he whispered, voice wavering slightly.

“Bucky I’m about to hurl all over you, it’s really not that romantic,” Steve ribbed, but he was grinning, because, well, it kinda was. The bakery was dimly lit and the remaining cakes left a rich, lovely scent of sugar and sweetness in the air.

“Well, we never really were the big romantics anyway, were we?” Bucky fired back, the lights catching on his metal thumb as he rubbed circles into Steve’s palm.

“That’s not true. You always pulled out all the stops on the dames back then.”

Bucky snorted. “Yeah, well. Had to make a game out of it, didn’t I? Jus’ wanted you, but it’s not like I could have you. It was fun, charming the dames, but being with them was never fun. Being with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And this was the moment, Steve understood suddenly. “You’re the best for me too, Buck, you know that, right?”

Bucky leaned forward to answer Steve’s question with a kiss, but Steve gently pushed him back down, ignoring the question swimming in Bucky’s eyes as he got to his feet.

“I’m not going to make this long. You’d hate it if I made a whole speech, and I need to save your patience for that for later, hopefully.” Bucky’s confusion only seemed to grow, until Steve dropped down on one knee.

“No way,” Bucky whispered, face going slack as Steve pulled the ring out of his inner pocket.

“Bucky Barnes. I’ve lost you more times than I can count by now, and I won’t have that again. So, I’m asking you to wear this so you’ll always remember that you have a home, to come back to. You have me, to come back to. Because I love you. Always have, always will. So, Bucky. Will you marry me?”

Bucky froze, but his eyes were glinting tellingly, as if he was about to start bawling. “You mean it?”

“’Course I do, Buck. Want you the rest of my days. The only question is, do you think you can stand me for that long?”

“Fuck yeah,” Bucky grunted as he flew out of the chair and into Steve’s arms. He dragged his hand over every part of Steve he could reach, breathing ragged against Steve’s throat. “I can’t believe you,” he spat, but the tears were flowing freely down his cheeks as Steve grabbed his hand and slowly slipped the ring onto Bucky’s metal hand.

“Do you-- do you think we can break with tradition a bit? I can’t see it properly on this arm,” Bucky mumbled and with a grin, Steve took off the ring and let it settle on Bucky’s right ring finger instead.

Bucky held out his hand to properly inspect the ring. “It reminds me of your father’s ring,” Bucky said absentmindedly, as if that little sentence didn’t fill Steve’s already full heart with love, and he let out a sob of his own and reached forward to cling to Bucky.

“I’m glad you remembered,” Steve said, which was about the understatement of the year. “And I’m glad you said yes.”

“I’m just glad you asked.”

And then they were kissing sweetly, on the floor of a tiny bakery tucked away behind the hustle and bustle of New York, with a gleaming ring on Bucky’s hand and galloping hearts.

 _This,_ Steve thought, _this was what I was meant to do. Loving Bucky._

\--------------------------------------------------------------

 

Telling the rest of the Avengers was an…. experience. Natasha and Clint called maid of honor before the words had fully left Steve’s mouth, but the most hilarious things was Tony’s loud protests.

“Listen, who is going to pay for this wedding? Probably this guy. So I should wear the nasty dress and catch the flowers.”

“Can’t you all just be our best men and maid of honors?” Steve placated.

Clint snorted. “No, cause you’d have no guests left.”

Bucky had been smiling since they’d stepped out of the elevator of the tower, and it only broadened then. “Then no one gets to do it.”

Sam started yelling loudly about how he had earnt this by letting them stay until their own place was ready and how traumatizing it was to listen to them having sex through the wall.

“I know for a fact that this century has noise-cancelling headphones, you perv,” Bucky fired back, and suddenly Sam went silent.

With a tiny huff and red cheeks, he admitted; “well, y’all aren’t ugly or unpleasant to listen to.”

“Sam’s not going anywhere near us at that wedding,” Steve whispered to Bucky.

“I heard that!”

“Sure you did.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh my god, we have to plan a wedding,” Steve mumbled to himself, horrified, later that night when he and Bucky were lying in bed.

Bucky groaned as he rolled onto his tummy so he could stare at Steve. “I don’t have the stamina to fuck you out of your head again tonight, so if you could stop brain-farting that would be great.”

“We have no idea how to plan a wedding,” Steve continued, unperturbed.

“Pepper is an expert at anything, she’ll help us.”

“What theme should we have? Nautical? Black and white?” Steve trailed off, and Bucky groaned long and loud when Steve’s eyes went wide in fear. “Tony is going to force us to have a 1940’s wedding, isn’t he?”

“If I’d known you would turn into such a bridezilla I would’ve said no.”

“Rude.”

Bucky responded by flinging an arm over Steve’s waist and fitting thigh in between Steve’s. He settled his head on Steve’s chest, a hand resting over the blonde’s steady, beating heart. It picked up speed as Bucky kissed lightly at Steve’s throat and jaw. “Relax, Stevie. That’s the good thing about only having, like, three friends. It’s easy to fit around their schedules. We can have it whenever we want.”

“Or we could elope.”

“Sam would kill himself if he didn’t get to make an embarrassing best man speech.”

“He has too much material. Maybe _we_ should just kill him.”

Bucky’s laughter slowly trailed off as he fell asleep, sated and happy, against Steve’s chest.

Planning and having a wedding was going to be one hell of a ride. Bucky could honestly say he’d never been more excited.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr: warlocktrash


End file.
